I don't own Meridian.
PS: I haven't read the book in a while so sorry if I mix things up or forget things...
I have always been surrounded by death. Even when I was a baby, creatures found me. At first, being little, I thought this was cool, until the day I realized they were still because they were dead. After that, I tried to hide from them. Nothing could stop the force of nature, and so I became accustom to the life of death.
3:00 a.m. Monday, September 30th
It's my sixteenth birthday, imagine that. I can't seem to sleep tonight- this morning.
Hearing a soft knock on my door, I flipped my journal shut, clicked off my light, and pulled my covers over my head in a little over a second.
"Come on, Gabby, I know you're up," Mothers have a sixth sense or something.
"Mom, It's three am!" I define the time in two mini sentences.
She enters my room as I sit up and cross my arms. After staring me down with her green speckled eyes does she speak, "I'm just afraid of losing you, Gabby. You just grow up so fast,"
It was times like this when my life seemed confusing. I had grown accustom to the looks of horror on people's faces when they see dead things around me. Those things themselves had made me a hard person. Both my parents had come to accept that, but it was these times when mom just seemed to melt like goo and get all sensitive.
Walking over, she leans down and kisses my forehead, "Just promise me, Gabriella, you will never forget that your father and I love you," her voice seems to wobble.
"You make me promise this all the time, I don't understand why you think I would forget it." The statement rings true.
"Sometimes things change," was the only advice she offered me.
Sunrise is my favorite time of day. I sit at my window, cocoa in hand, watching the sky turn purple, pink, and red over the graveyard which we now call our back yard. Most people would find it eerie, living next to a graveyard. For me, it is just another house that completes the 'surrounded by death' phrase I often use to describe myself in my head.
After a good portion of the sun was up, I grab some clean cloths and head to the bathroom.
Steam fills my nose and hot water rushes over me, loosening tightened muscles. This is probably my second favorite part of the day. Feeling clean and ride of death, I step out.
I sigh as I brush up a dead cricket and a few lady bugs and throw them away.
I can smell the pancakes before anything. Nearing the kitchen I can hear my mother humming a tune from last night's Friends rerun. While drizzling my pancakes in syrup, I notice my mother staring at me, "Wow, Gabby, you're sixteen," there is that line of concern on her forehead, so deep that I think it might be etched there forever.
Darting out the door I catch a glimpse of my mother standing in the window, my father behind her. She looks older today, standing there with a cracked coffee mug in hand, hair flying loosely outside of her attempted bun. I take it all in, feeling the need to remember this moment.
A screech of tires startls me. A deer was crossing the road, which isn't strange when you live outside of town, but the van wouldn't seem to stop. It swerves, sending it right into another vehicle.
The pain starts at my heart, and with each beat, sends the pain deeper and deeper into my body. I feel like I am on fire, barely able to tell that my mother is making an effort to pull me towards the house. I struggle along with her to get me away from the scene.
Finally, Dad picks me up and sets me inside the car. We speed away from the house, and little do I know, from our lives.
A/N: This is only my second story, and I haven't been on here since 2009. If you R&R it will be greatly appr eciated.